a sudden shock. All his animation of a moment before had disappeared.
"He's—he's ruined me! The thief! I understand it now. Why he wanted the cash, his haste, and the call abroad. What a fool I was! I had seen the stone so often, I thought I knew it so well, that I never thought of looking at it. I snapped him—I thought he'd change his mind—and he's snapped me."
His wife advanced to him.
"James, what is wrong? Isn't it the stone you thought it was?"
He laid his hand lightly on her arm.
"Hush! There's someone in the shop. See who it is."
She peeped through the curtain which screened the door.
"It's Mr. Hart."
"What does he want?" With his handkerchief Mr. Tyrrel mopped his brow. "I'll—I'll go and see."
In the shop there was a tall, portly gentleman. His overcoat, which was unbuttoned, was lined and trimmed with fur. About him there was an odour of wealth.
"How do, Tyrrel, how do? Mrs. Hart's going to be presented at the first Drawing-room—sheriffs wife, and that sort of thing, you know—and I want to give her something neat in diamonds. Thought I'd give you a turn—get them in the rough. Knew your father. He and I have had many a deal together. Got anything good just now?"
Mr. Tyrrel looked round and round the shop. He glanced behind him at the door which led into
